


Time's Up

by Joycee



Category: White Collar
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4838351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joycee/pseuds/Joycee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal gets his feelings hurt and runs. Peter has to find him before anyone finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time's Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story for a General audience.  
> (Sorry, no smut in this one.)

Peter snapped at Neal for the third time that day. His CI was just so exasperating, so presumptuous, so brash, and disrespectful, too. Neal looked wounded and swallowed a retort, choosing punishing silence instead. Peter was insufferable and unreasonably demanding. He just didn't understand Neal. 

The two had been like this for several days. The entire White Collar office was tense. Everyone was holding their breath and walking on eggshells, wondering when the explosion would come and what the fallout would be when it did. Peter had made Neal Caffrey such an integral part of their team. He was right at the center of every operation. 

It had taken time, but by now everyone had accepted Neal. What he lacked in training, he made up for in enthusiasm and ability. While he was surely a conman and criminal, he had used that experience in the service of solving cases repeatedly. Neal was fun and he was fearless, except perhaps of Peter.

Peter was their unquestioned leader. He commanded their respect and their loyalty with his quiet intelligence and good judgment. He was a wise and trustworthy man that they were proud to serve. Peter was unfailingly well balanced and fair and even forgiving, except when it came to Neal. 

It was clear to everyone that Peter's obsession with capturing the daring young art thief had morphed into an equally compelling need to keep him out of trouble. As for Neal, he clearly idolized Peter, but he constantly strained every limit. Zebras can't just change their stripes because someone wants them to.

It was odd. Peter and his team members would trust Neal with their lives if it came to that, and they would risk their own for him, but apart from that, they didn't trust him as far they could throw him. Less than that actually, since Neal lied as easily as he breathed. Well, he didn't technically lie to them most of the time as much as he evaded, omitted, and misled.

Ultimately, it felt the same, though. They had all learned to adjust to it, to just get used to it at some level. All of them except Peter, who seemed to be devastated every time it happened. When inevitably, he discovered that Neal had been less than honest with him, Peter became upset and carried a grudge for days, sometimes even weeks.

Neal would respond with regret and try to placate and cajole him, but when that failed, he would pout and resent him. When that pattern continued long enough, everyone knew a blow up was coming. They just didn't know exactly what would trigger it or how bad it would be.

No one was really sure if Peter would ever put Neal back in prison, least of all Neal. It was clear that he didn't want to do it. Equally unknown was whether Neal would try to run. As attached to Peter as he was, Neal was not free. He was given enough leeway that he could certainly attempt to run. No one knew whether he could run far and fast enough not to get caught, and whether he wanted to badly enough to try it. 

It was a high stakes proposition. Peter's professional reputation was on the line because he had taken on responsibility for Neal. More than that, he had invested himself personally in his close relationship with him. On the other hand, Neal had a lot to lose if he ran, but he had a lot to gain, too. That's why everyone watched with so much trepidation when there was conflict between them.

Peter finally reached his limit. When Neal sassed him with a sarcastic remark in conference, Peter put his hands on his hips and fixed Neal with an accusing stare. He said sternly, "That will be enough, Neal. We won't need anything else from you on this case. You can go."

Neal couldn't leave it alone. He barely hid his hurt feelings as he asked impudently, "Where am I supposed to go, Peter?"

Peter's face colored. He didn't appreciate being confronted in front of his whole team. Besides they had more important work to do than deal with Neal's attitude. Peter said without inflection, "You will go to my house and wait for me there. We need to talk."

Neal flicked him a little mock salute and contemptuously drawled, "Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir." 

As he sauntered out, there was a collective exhalation. It was Friday and everyone was eager to wind up their conference and break for the weekend. Once Neal left, Peter was all business and they were able to conclude their meeting productively.

When Neal got outside the FBI building, he was seething with resentment and humiliation. Peter had rejected him in front of everyone. He was a grown man and he had his pride. He was sick and tired of being treated like a bad child. This time he wasn't going to take it. Peter would be sorry he had treated Neal that way.

He began to formulate a plan. He detoured by his apartment to pick up some fake ID and some cash and pack a few clothes into a bag. Next, he stopped to buy a burner phone. Then he hurried to the Burke's home before Elizabeth got home. 

Once he got there, Neal removed his anklet and left it on Peter's pillow on his bed. He left his cell phone on the nightstand so he couldn't be tracked by it. Since he had permission to be at Peter's house, he knew no alarm would be triggered until Peter reported him.

He figured he had a few hours at least to put some distance between them. He decided his best bet was to make his way out of town and then hitchhike. There would be fewer records and security cameras that way.

He impulsively decided to head to Providence, RI. He had no former ties there and it seemed like a place he would like and fit in. It was 180 miles away and it took him about four hours to get there once he got to Interstate 95 and caught a ride. A good looking, well dressed man like Neal did not have to wait more than a few minutes for someone to pick him up. He even changed rides a couple of times on the way.

When Peter got home, he didn't find the anklet right away. He came in and poured himself some Scotch. He needed something stronger than beer after the week he'd just had. He needed to fortify himself for his talk with Neal. He thought maybe he had been a little tougher on him than he needed to be.

That was when he started wondering where Neal was. He checked the yard and the guest room and even the basement. Then he began to get concerned. He went up to his bedroom to change his clothes. When he finally saw the anklet resting on his pillow, he began to panic.

Peter put his hand to his head and groaned. He realized immediately that Neal had taken advantage of his permission to visit Peter at home to get a head start before the U.S. Marshals reported him missing. All Peter could think was that he had to find Neal and get him back before anyone else at the FBI knew Neal was gone.

When Elizabeth got home, she found Peter sitting in their living room, deep in thought. She asked, "What's the matter, Hon?" Then she noticed that Peter was holding Neal's anklet and gasped, "Oh!"

Peter turned to her and asked urgently, "Hon, do you think you can get ahold of Mozzie?"

Elizabeth put her arms around Peter and rested her head on his chest. She sighed, "I'll try."

When Mozzie got El's call on the special phone he had given her, he answered it right away, "Hello, Mrs. Suit. Do you need something?"

Elizabeth tried to be calm as she asked him, "Mozzie, do you know if Neal was planning to go anywhere this weekend?"

Mozzie's antennae picked up something wrong right away. He inquired cautiously, "Doesn't the Suit know?"

Elizabeth sighed, "That's just it, Mozz. He doesn't. Neal's anklet is here, but he isn't."

Mozzie whistled, "Oh. Ohhh....no, Neal didn't tell me he had any plans. Did he and the Suit have a fight?"

"I'm not sure," Elizabeth confessed. "Thanks, Mozz. I'll keep in touch. Will you let us know if you hear from him?"

Mozzie replied, "I can't promise you that, but if I can, I will."

Elizabeth turned to Peter. He looked crushed and her heart ached for him. She knew how invested he was in Neal. She understood how he felt, too. She had come to love the handsome, charming, quicksilver boy-man. Neal had become a cross between a son and a little brother to them both, like part of their family.

"I can't believe he would run," Elizabeth told Peter. "Maybe he's in some kind of trouble."

Peter said sadly, "He ran, Elizabeth, but he's in big trouble now. It's partly my fault. I've been very hard on him lately. I embarrassed him in front of everyone this afternoon."

Elizabeth reassured him, "Oh, Hon, I'm sure you didn't mean to. I know how infuriating he can be sometimes."

"Yeah, he sure can," Peter agreed, "but I still should have handled it better. I'm the grownup and the professional here. I'm supposed to keep him safe."

"You can't take it all on yourself," El told him. "After all, Neal is a grown man."

Peter chuckled fondly, "Kind of. He is and he isn't. But it doesn't matter. I'm still responsible for him."

Elizabeth asked, "What are you going to do?"

Peter replied without hesitation, "I'm going to get him back before Monday. As long as his anklet is here, nobody will know he's missing before then."

"What if you can't find him," Elizabeth wondered.

"Then he and I are both in a lot of trouble," admitted Peter. He sat down at a map on his computer and mused, "Now where would Neal go?"

Peter spent a couple of hours checking for various aliases and transportation ticket records. He pretty well satisfied himself that Neal had not taken a plane or train or bus. That left hitchhiking as the most likely possibility. That made sense. Now where did he go?

Peter finally went to bed, but he didn't sleep. He wracked his brain to try to remember some clue Neal might have mentioned that would give him some idea where to start looking. Just as he started to drift off, he heard his phone.

When he grabbed it, it didn't show any caller ID and Peter's heart leapt. It had to be Neal. He said calmly, "Hello.""

"Peter?" he heard Neal say quietly. Peter replied, "Yes, Neal. Where are you?"

Neal said cautiously, "Oh no, not so fast. I just wanted to let you know I'm all right."

"No, you're not all right, Neal. You're in big trouble, but if you come back now, it doesn't have to be so bad," Peter tried to reason with him.

"Did you turn me in yet?" Neal wanted to know.

"Is that why you called?" asked Peter. He wanted to keep Neal talking. Even though he couldn't trace the call, maybe he could pick up a clue.

"Well, did you? Are the Marshal's looking for me? Is there a warrant out or an APB out for me?" Neal pressed.

"What do you think?" countered Peter. Neal took a deep breath and said, "No, I don't think so. You said it's not too late."

"Not too late for what?" asked Peter. Neal replied tentatively, "To come back home?"

Peter exhaled, "That's right, Neal. This is your home."

Neal hung up then and Peter swore. Elizabeth woke up and put her arms around him. She reassured him, "Don't worry, Hon. Neal will come home."

Peter sighed, "I hope so, Hon. I sure hope so." He finally fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Neal lay awake after he hung up. He felt so conflicted. He was pretty sure he could get away. Peter hadn't figured out where he was yet. God, it had felt good to hear Peter's steady voice, though. Peter didn't seem mad now. He seemed worried and sad. Neal put his head down and sighed. He knew he couldn't keep calling Peter if he really wanted to get away.

In the morning, Peter tried to analyze every aspect of Neal's phone call. Not only what Neal said, but any background noise, anything at all that would give him a clue. He began to relax a little. They still had time and Peter was pretty sure Neal would call again.

Just in case, Peter tried pushing redial on the phone call from the night before. To his surprise, he heard a sleepy Neal answer, "Hello."

Peter said quietly, "Good morning, Neal. Did you sleep okay?" Neal replied hesitantly, "Y-yes. I guess so."

Peter asked lightly, "Ready to come home yet?" Neal said softly, "It's your home, Peter. Not mine. I don't have a home."

Peter assured him, "You do if you want one. El and I love you. We want you here, Neal."

Neal disconnected the call. Peter's words rang in his ears. He had a home if he wanted one. They loved him. How he had longed to hear those words. But was it too late? 

Peter smiled a little when he hung up. His heart twisted as he wondered whether he had gotten through to Neal. As long as Neal was willing to talk to him, he had a chance. He went back to his computer to search for any further clues as to where Neal was.

Neal spent a pleasant day in Providence. Even the weather was nice. He walked around town and took a ferry over to Newport where he strolled around the old mansions out by the water. He hung around the docks a little while and then found an excellent little seafood restaurant with a very good wine selection. He felt like he was on vacation. 

That was just it, though. Vacations are fun, but only if you can go back home. Neal knew that was what he wanted, but he couldn't just go back. He decided then that he might let Peter find him.

The next call to Peter from Neal came about dinner time. Peter picked it up quickly and said in a friendly tone of voice, "Hi Neal. How's it going?"

Neal said casually, "It's going okay. I had a pretty nice day. Had some good seafood for dinner."

"Really, where was that?" Peter asked. Neal laughed, "Uh-uh. Not so fast, Peter. Let's see if you can catch me again."

Peter smiled, "You're on, Buddy. I've caught you before and I can catch you again." Then he added seriously, "But Neal, it has to be before tomorrow night. I can't protect you after that."

"Are you protecting me, Peter?" asked Neal. "You know I am," Peter replied.

"Why, Peter?" Neal wondered. "Why are you protecting me? I'm nothing but trouble to you."

Peter laughed, "Yeah. You're a handful. I'm not going to argue with that."

Neal pressed him, "Then why?" Peter answered, "Because you're worth it."

Neal disconnected again. He made up his mind then. He definitely wanted Peter to catch him. He wondered how many clues he would have to give him.

Peter found El and swung her around. "He wants to come home!" he exclaimed.

"Oh good. When's he coming?" asked El innocently. Peter chuckled, "Oh no, he's not going to make it that easy. I have to find him."

El asked, "But how?" Peter smiled, "Neal's going to tell me. I just have to listen."

Sure enough. With every phone call, Neal dropped another clue. He was near a harbor. It was an old town. It had fashionable shops and excellent restaurants. It was misty in the morning, but the sun came out in the afternoon. The weather was pleasant, but not too hot.

Peter used each piece of information to narrow down the possibilities. It was kind of fun, like a high stakes game of hide and seek. Peter was worried, though, because he knew that there wasn't that much time. He hoped Neal understood that Peter couldn't stall after Sunday night. He would have to report Neal missing on Monday morning and then it would be out of Peter's hands.

Neal was having fun dropping little clues. He didn't want it to be too easy, though. Early Sunday evening, he called Peter one more time. He taunted, "Know where I am yet?"

Peter decided to take a chance. He said, "Yes, I'll be there to pick you up. Be by the ferry in three hours and wait for me there."

The fact that Neal agreed without correcting him made Peter feel more confident that he had surmised correctly. He told El, "Well, keep your fingers crossed. I'm going to get him. I hope I have the right place."

El kissed him and said, "Oh, Hon. I hope so, too. I'll ride along with you. Let's go bring our boy back home."

As Peter drove, he tried to be confident. It had to be the right place. At least he thought he was right. Providence met all the criteria and he was pretty sure it was a place that would appeal to Neal. He pulled up to the ferry at 9:00 and began to search.

Neal was waiting anxiously. Thank goodness Peter had figured it out. Thank goddness he had wanted to. Neal smiled as he anticipated Peter's strong arms folding him into a welcoming embrace.

Suddenly, Neal was grabbed from behind. As he swung around, he was thrown roughly to the ground. He looked up at a couple of tough guys in dirty denim jackets staring down at him. One of them held a cheap handgun. He taunted, "Well, ain't you pretty? Where'd you come from, beautiful?"

Neal tried to remain cool. He assured them, "Hey, I don't want any trouble. What do you want?"

"Well, we want your wallet," said the one with the gun. "Now that I've had a look at you, though, maybe that's not all I want."

Memories of prison came flooding back to Neal. While his good looks had helped him through life on the whole, there were times like this when they were a real vulnerability. Neal knew better than to challenge men like these. Neal batted his eyes and responded coquettishly, "Whatever you want. You're the one with the big gun."

The thug looked at his companion and said, "See there. Isn't that sweet? Take his wallet and see if he's carrying."

Neal was roughly frisked and relieved of his wallet and phone by a large impassive man, who checked it and said to the gunman, "Come on. Let's go. There's a lot of cash here. Let's just take it and get out of here. He ain't worth the trouble."

The gunman reluctantly nodded, but he was annoyed. He said, "I'm gonna make sure he doesn't try anything funny, though." He swiftly delivered a series of kicks to Neal's chest and abdomen, taking him by surprise. 

As his attackers vanished into the night, Neal curled into a ball of pain and groaned. All he could think was, "Peter...." as he blacked out.

Elizabeth and Peter waited in their car for an hour. Peter kept saying, "This had to be it. He would've told me if me I was wrong."

Elizabeth asked, "Do you think something could have happened to Neal?"

Peter just shook his head. "I don't know, Hon. Neal knows how to take to care of himself. I guess he just changed his mind about coming back. We might as well go back home."

Elizabeth squeezed his hand and sympathized, "I'm so sorry. I love him, too."

Peter sighed, "I guess sometimes you just have to let go." He looked away, hoping in vain that El wouldn't see the tear sliding down his cheek.

They took their time on the long drive home, stopping to eat along the away. When he finally parked in front of their home, Peter hated to even get out of the car. He knew he still might find Neal again sometime, though he doubted it. The main thing was, it would be too late. In the morning, Peter would have to report that Neal was missing.

Peter looked at Elizabeth and said miserably, "Well, that's it. Time's up."

When they got in the house, it was already early Monday morning. Peter took the dog outside for a few minutes and then went straight for the Scotch and poured himself a generous amount. Elizabeth came up beside him and murmured, "I'll take one of those, too."

They sank onto the couch together, El peacefully resting up against Peter, Satchmo at their feet. They kicked off their shoes and drained their drinks in defeated silence and fell asleep where they were sitting. They were awakened by daylight coming in through the windows.

Peter cursed and said, "Christ, I've got to shower and dress. I'm going to be late if I don't get a move on." Elizabeth yawned and stretched and told him, "I'll start making breakfast. I'll be up in a minute."

As Peter went up the stairs, he fumbled for his phone when it vibrated in his pocket. He grimly recognized the U.S. Marshal's number and answered curtly, "Burke."

The voice on the other end greeted him, "Good morning, Agent Burke. Just checking in to see that you're with Neal Caffrey. Our records show that he spent the weekend at your house."

As he turned into his room, Peter responded, "Ummm, uh, just a minute." Stretched out, all bruised and naked on his bed, anklet locked in place, was Neal, sound asleep. Peter quickly said into the phone, unsuccessfully trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, "Yes. Yes he is. He's here with me." 

Peter sat down heavily onto the bed and petted Neal's hair. Then he leaned over and kissed him awake. Neal slowly opened a sleepy blue eye. When he saw Peter, he scrambled into his lap like a child and threw his arms around him, burying his head in Peter's broad chest. Peter hugged back and placed a kiss on his head.

That's how Elizabeth found them a few minutes later. Her pretty blue eyes filled with tears and she choked, "Oh sweetie. You're home."

Neal turned his head to give her a shy happy smile. Elizabeth noticed his bruises then and gasped, "What happened to you?"

Peter gently deposited Neal on the bed and took a look at him. He softly ran his hands over Neal's discolored chest and probed his ribs. He frowned and concluded, "Neal, I think you might have a couple cracked ribs on your right side."

Neal nodded and confirmed, "Yeah, I think so. They hurt like crazy, but I just wanted to get home."

Elizabeth murmured, "Home." Peter looked up at her and smiled and nodded. He told Neal, "You'll always have a home here, Neal."

Neal gave him an impish smile and teased, "Is that a tear I see, Agent Burke?"

Peter said gruffly, "You zip it or I'll show you what it really feels like to hurt."

Neal shivered, "Ooh, I might have to take a rain check on that."

Elizabeth laughed, "Oh you boys! I'm going to go back downstairs and finish getting breakfast on the table."

When she left, Peter looked seriously at Neal. He said, "Elizabeth and I drove to Providence to pick you up by the ferry, but you weren't there."

Neal winced and told him, "Actually I was. We must've missed each other."

Peter asked, "Wanna tell me what happened?" He listened intently as Neal explained the assault and robbery he had suffered. Peter felt terrible that he hadn't been able to help Neal and told him so.

Neal smiled, "You can't always rescue me. I guess I deserved it for running away."

Peter looked hurt as he questioned, "Why Neal? Why did you run? Are things so bad here?"

Neal looked troubled and tried to explain, "No. No, they're not really. I just feel so suffocated sometimes. I feel like I'm never good enough. I'm always disappointing you."

Peter stroked him soothingly and asked reasonably, "Neal, when you feel that way, couldn't we just talk about it? If you hadn't made it back here in time, I wouldn't have been able to cover for you. You'd have to go back to prison. I don't want that to happen."

Neal looked down and said, "Or I could've gotten away."

Peter asked curiously, "Why didn't you?"

Neal looked at him with heartbreaking sincerity and said simply, "You, Peter."

Then the FBI man did cry and he didn't care if Neal saw him. He carefully gathered him into his arms and ran his hand up and down Neal's smooth back. Neal pressed himself close against him and they stayed that way for a little while.

When Peter and Neal strolled into the FBI later that morning, Peter had his arm firmly around Neal's shoulders. He had called earlier to say they would be late. Everyone looked up at the two of them and a collective sigh of relief went up. 

Diana echoed Elizabeth when she said contentedly, "Our boys are back."

Jones sighed, "Just in time."

**Author's Note:**

> Characters were created by Jeff Eastin for the White Collar series on USA TV.


End file.
